


Gallavich Holiday drabbles

by Blodeuwedd



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, occasional mention to illicit drugs and sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 9,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blodeuwedd/pseuds/Blodeuwedd
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles I created for the Gallavich advent calendar prompts.





	1. Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I'm uploading each drabble as a new chapter, so they stay together, and also because some of them are very short.

 

“Fucking... goddamn... shitty... motherfucker!”

 

Ian has known Mickey long enough not to be surprised by the amount of near-constant swearing, but he can’t help but raise his eyebrows as he hears his boyfriend shouting expletive after expletive.

 

“Miiiick… you ok?” he asks from the bathroom where he’s brushing his teeth after he spits on the sink.

 

“It’s alright!” Mickey is quick to tranquilize him, although he follows it with a “just this damn motherfucking bastard lights won’t fucking cooperate!”

 

“Lights?”

 

Ian rinses his toothbrush and follows the sound of Mickey’s muffled swears into the living room of the small apartment they’ve been sharing for a few months. He finds him sitting cross-legged on the stained beige carpet, a mess of tangled Christmas light wires all around him.

 

“You got Christmas lights?”

 

Mickey rubs the corner of his mouth with his thumb, not looking up at him.

 

“Found them on sale. They were pretty cheap, so I thought… you know, we don’t have a tree or anything, but at least it’s something… Thought you’d like them.”

 

Ian grins at him. This is one of his favorite things about Mickey, how he’s constantly showing how much he loves him by going out of his way to make him happy, with small, daily gestures. It makes his heart swell on his chest.

 

“I love them. I love _you_.” He kneels in front of Mickey and takes his face between his palms, kissing him firmly.

 

Mickey smiles softly when he breaks the kiss. He looks down at the Christmas lights and sighs. “Yeah, well, can’t like them if they’re not on yet.”

 

Ian sits in front of him, mimicking his posture, and starts patiently untangling the closest wires. “It’s ok, Mick. We’ll assemble them together.”

 

A whole hour and much more swearing from Mickey later, the lights are finally hanging from one of the walls in loose horizontal lines, and they sit together on the worn-out couch, snuggling and sipping hot cocoa, enjoying the start of their first holidays together, just the two of them.

 


	2. Reunion

 

Mickey studies himself in the mirror. Something doesn’t look quite right. It’s his hair. His hair is way too messy. He’ll hate it, think Mickey is some slob. No, it must be fixed. He pours a bit more gel on his hand and pats his hair down, combing it to the side and willing it to just.fucking.stay.put.already.

 

It looks a bit better, but something about him still seems off. Maybe it’s the shirt. Yep, it’s the shirt. He looks too dressed up, too formal. He’ll think Mickey is a dork. No way, gotta change.

 

He takes the shirt of, throwing it on the bed next to a bunch of other shirts deemed unfit for the grand occasion and rummages through his dresser for something more appropriate. A T-shirt. That’s it. A simple black t-shirt with a nice print in front. That’ll do it.

 

Mickey puts the T-shirt on and steps in front of the mirror once more. Ugh, no. He looks like a teenager now. Or worse, like an old man trying to pass as a teenager. Gross.

 

He takes off the T-shirt as well, frantic, and looks at all the shirts on the bed. No, they all suck. He should have gotten a new one. Damn it, why didn’t he get a new one?

 

He looks inside the dresser again, considering his options, and something catches his eyes. He’d gotten a Hawaiian shirt with a Christmas print the year before and had ended up never wearing it. It’s still a shirt, but not so formal, and it fits the holiday spirit. He puts it on and once more looks at his reflection. Yes, that’s better. A nice middle ground between I-don’t-care and I-care-so-fucking-much.

 

Not that he doesn’t care, though. He does. A lot. He just doesn’t want to put a lot of expectations on this, to put pressure on him.

 

He hears the doorbell and panic settles in the pit of his stomach. This is it.

 

He smells his armpits, deciding he still doesn’t smell good enough, and quickly sprays some more deodorant under the shirt.

 

“Mick?” Ian appears on the doorway, smiling. “They’re here.”

 

Mickey nods, still tense, but smiles back. He must put on his best smile to see again the son he hasn’t seen in years. Finally.


	3. Snow globe

Ian had ignored the heavy clouds and risked going home on foot, to which his reward was a heavy rain falling about ten minutes into his walk and forcing him to look for shelter. He walked into a thrift store, crammed with all sort of items. The store smells mildly of mold, and it is dark inside, every available surface covered with random objects. **  
**

“Good evening, sir!”

He looks up to see an extremely friendly girl, probably in her late teens, with a huge smile on her face.

“What can I help you with?”

“I… uh… to be honest, I was just seeking shelter for a moment.” He points to the heavy rain that continues to fall outside the shop’s windows.

The girl’s smile falters for a moment, but is back in full force when she adds “We have a sale happening this week. Two large items or five small items for only ten dollars!”

He blinks at her, taken aback. Ten dollars? That’s very little… And for up to five items? Maybe he could…

“All proceedings go to an animal shelter!”

Oh, well, in that case Ian had to buy something, right? I mean, it was for a good cause. And it was a bargain anyway.

“Sure. I’ll look around then.”

The girl grins even wider. “Thank you, sir!”

He peruses the smaller items on a nearby shelf, almost immediately taking a couple of mugs. Mugs are never enough, right? And he keeps breaking them anyway.

“Are these small items?”

“Yes, sir! Let me hold these for you while you keep looking around. You can buy three more things.”

Ian thanks her and continues his search. He finds a small box of paperclips, which are always useful, and a children’s book he’s sure his niece will love. That leaves just one item to find. From the corner of his eye he sees a snow globe, which he thinks might make a nice present for someone, maybe his boss, now that the holidays are fast approaching.

Once he gets closer to the snow globe, however, he immediately realizes it’s not something he can give his boss. At all. But he does know someone else who will definitely get a kick out of it. He takes it and puts it together with his other purchases, handing the cheerful girl a ten dollar bill.

She once more smiles brightly at him, taking the money. “Thank you, sir! The animals at the shelter thank you as well.”

Ian makes a mental note to go back to the store periodically and leaves, wishing the girl a good evening. The rain has now slowed down to slightly more than a drizzle, which he can handle for the next 5-to-10 minutes it’ll take him to get home.

“I’m home!” he announces loudly, to which his boyfriend frowns at him.

“Yeah, I can see that, dumbass, I’m sitting right here!”

Ian smiles and leans over to give him a kiss.

“And I brought you a present.”

“What? Why? What did you do?”

Ian shakes his head and start taking the things out of the bag. “Went into a thrift shop because of the rain, she had a five items for ten dollars bargain, so… I figured I’d get some stuff. And also, help an animal shelter.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, watching the stuff Ian is putting on the table. “You’re too fucking soft.”

He takes the mugs, the paper clips and the book out, then hands Mickey the bag. “Here, this one made me think of you.”

Mickey eyes it cautiously. “If there’s a dildo in there, I swear to god…”

Ian bursts out laughing. “No, not a dildo, I swear.”

Mickey takes the bag and peeks inside. “A snow globe? Why the hell did you think of me…”

But he pauses once he looks at the snow globe, now in his hand, and starts laughing as well when he sees inside the snow globe a hand flipping the bird.

“Ok, ok, I’ll hand it to ya, that’s actually a good one.”

He shakes it, making the glitter inside swirl all around it, and smiles. “Thanks, I guess.”

He walks over to the TV rack and sets it beside it, not without shaking it again first.

Ian smiles as he watches him. He knew it would be the perfect present for his boyfriend!


	4. Snowflakes

Ian had insisted they took a stroll around the neighborhood to see the Christmas decorations.

“All the houses are lit up, Mick! It’s so pretty!”

And it was, indeed. But it was also fucking cold outside, and now it was starting to snow as well.

Ian observed Mickey, whose eyes were glued to the blinking lights of one of the most embellished houses. His face was illuminated in several colors, and Ian thought he looked absolutely beautiful. He watched, mesmerized, as tiny snowflakes fell upon Mickey’s face, pausing on his long eyelashes and the tip of his nose.

“Ha!” he noticed, amused. “Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes.”

Mickey blinked, dislodging some of the snowflakes, and looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“You know” he made a motion with his hand and repeated what he’d said, this time singing it. ♫ _Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_.♫

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

“My favorite things? From the song?”

As Mickey continued to stare at him like he had no idea what he was talking about, Ian started singing the song, as much as he remembered it.

♫ _Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens_

_Lala la lala la la woolen mittens_

_La la lalala la la lalala_

_These are a few of my favorite things_

_Girls in whatever with la lala la la_

_**Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashe** s_♫

He emphasized the last verse, but Mickey still seemed confused.

“From The Sound of Music! The musical? With Julie Andrews? And a bunch of kids? About… nazis, I think? It was one of my favorite movies when I was little!”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and he smiled mischievously at Ian.

“And your family still didn’t know you were gay?”

“Oh, shut up!”


	5. Bells

Mickey had never cared much about Christmas. It was a time to gather the family, but in his family that meant trouble. Gathering a bunch of criminals was not exactly a joyous occasion. He enjoyed getting presents, even if they weren’t many and were mostly simple things, like a cheap t-shirt or a chocolate bar, but that was when he was little. Once he was older he realized Christmas was mostly a night for getting hammered and brawling and, if he was lucky, stealing some cool stuff.

Ian had changed that view, like he’d changed so many things in Mickey’s life. The man loved Christmas, and his enthusiasm was very contagious, making it impossible for Mickey not to want to participate, even if he didn’t have the nice memories attached to the holiday.

“That’s ok” Ian had said, shaking small bells in front of Mickey’s face, startling him. Mickey took the bells, trying and failing to appear annoyed with his gesture, and Ian laughed and gave him a short kiss. “We’ll make our own Christmas memories.”


	6. Carol

“What’s your favorite Christmas carol?” Ian asks Mickey one day, out of the blue, simply because can’t get ‘Deck the Halls’ out of his head, and that’s  _his_ favorite. He fully expects the answer to be ‘none’ or “I don’t like any of them’, but his boyfriend surprises him by replying almost immediately.

“Silent Night.”

“Really?” Ian asks before he can contain himself. “I mean… that’s nice. It’s a beautiful one.”

Mickey nods. “Yeah. Only one I remember singing when I was little. My dad really liked it.” He looks at Ian’s surprised face and shrugs. “I know it’s weird to like something he liked, but… My dad had a nice singing voice. It was nice to listen to. Calming, even. It was one of the few moments I felt safe around him, sometimes even peaceful.”

He lowers his head, eyes fixed on his hands, and starts singing in a clear, melodic voice.

Silent night, holy night

_All is calm, all is bright_

_Round yon Virgin Mother and Child_

_Holy Infant so tender and mild_

_Sleep in heavenly peace_

_Sleep in heavenly peace_

He pauses and raises his eyes, worrying lines appearing on his forehead when he sees Ian’s eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Was it that bad?”

Ian shakes his head, too moved to speak, and reaches over, kissing him tenderly.

“It was beautiful. Sing some more.”

And so he does, Ian’s head on his lap while they enjoy each other’s company in a calm peace.


	7. Cards

Ian stops suddenly while they’re walking through the supermarket, pulling Mickey by the hand.

“Mick, look! Christmas cards!”

Mickey scoffs. “What’s the point of cards? Why give people a piece of paper they’re going to throw away the next day if you’re already giving them a present? Unless you plan on giving only the card and skipping the present all together; in that case, I’m on board!”

Ian rolls his eyes and ignores Mickey’s rant.

“Come on, let’s choose some.”

He looks through the cards, ignoring Mickey, who just stands beside him and takes his phone out of his pocket to pass the time. He selects a few that he likes, until he sees one that makes him laugh.

“Hey, Mick. How about I get this one for you?”

He shows his partner a card that says ‘I’d have gotten you a more impressive gift if you weren’t already sleeping with me’.

Mickey snorts and shakes his head. “That’s exactly why you should get me a good present, as a thank you for being such a good fuck.”

Ian laughs and puts the card back, continuing his search.

He picks out a couple more options till he reaches one that really makes him loudly. Mickey looks up in curiosity and Ian shows him it, still laughing too much to speak. It’s a simple card with an elf on the cover saying ‘when I think about you I touch my elf’.

Mickey laughs as well, amused. “As long as I’m the one you’re giving this to, I’m ok with that.”

A few more minutes pass until Ian is finally satisfied with all his choices and they resume their shopping.

Days later, when Ian gives Mickey his Christmas present, it’s accompanied by a card Ian hadn’t shown him, and it makes Mickey smile the brightest. On the cover there’s a partially melted snowman and the sentence ‘thanks for putting up with my meltdowns’.

Mickey kisses Ian sweetly. “Anytime, Ian. Always.”


	8. Jumpers

“What do you think?” Mickey twirls in front of Ian, arms open, and raises his eyebrows. “Sweet, hum?”

Ian’s jaw drops open. Sweet is not exactly the word on his mind. Mickey can dress nicely when he wants to, but Ian swears sometimes he picks the most hideous clothes.

Right now he’s standing in front of Ian expectantly wearing jeans and a green sweater with a huge gingerbread man in the middle. If that wasn’t enough, the gingerbread man has red eyes and around it it’s written ‘let’s get baked’.

“Hm…”

“What?” Mickey looks down at himself. “Don’t you like it? I thought you’d love this. You love Christmas, you love stupid jokes, it was a perfect match.”

Ian can’t help but smile. “Do _I_ have to wear it?”

Mickey scoffs. “No, _I’m_  wearing it.”

Ian smirks and stands up, getting closer. “Are you sure? Because I think it would look great on the bedroom floor.”

He pulls Mickey close, kissing him deeply, feeling him sigh against the kiss.

When they pull apart, Mickey smiles.

“Sure you don’t want to fuck me in this? It’s a one in a lifetime opportunity.”

Ian laughs and pushes him into the bedroom.

“Keep wearing it and you’re never getting laid again.”

It only takes Mickey two seconds to pull the sweater over his head and throw it on the floor.

But he does wear it again the next day.


	9. Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU story where Mickey didn’t actually get shot in season 1 and, therefore, didn’t get arrested either. It’s set a few weeks after that, on Christmas.
> 
> Warning: some racist language from Mickey about Kash

Mickey kicked one of the pebbles on the dirty ground, sending it flying over the edge of the rooftop and down below. Damn it! Where was he?

He should never have allowed Gallagher to convince him to meet him on Christmas Eve. It was just a day like any other, no reason for them to meet aside from the usual. It wasn’t like Gallagher meant anything more than easy sex for him. A warm mouth, that’s all he was. Mickey tried not to think about how something had been different lately, how Ian’s eyes seemed softer when he looked at Mickey, how his fingers seemed to linger on his skin when they were passing a beer or a joint between them, how Ian had moaned his name the last time they…

Mickey shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but it was no use. Something had changed between them since Gallagher had stood in front of him to protect him from Kash’s gun. Not that Mickey thought that coward towelhead would shoot him, he didn’t have the balls for it. He had seemed closer than ever to the breaking point however, and though Mickey had complained with Gallagher and told him he hadn’t needed to do that, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

Everything had changed after that. Ian had quit his job (his sister had been furious, but fuck her, she didn’t know half the shit he’d been dealing with), which had resulted in him spending a lot more time at his house, normally with Mandy, but sometimes with Mickey as well. And he was also spending more time with Mickey, sneaking out into hidden alleys, empty parking lots, deserted parks, and this abandoned building. It was all but falling apart, and it looked like it had never been completely finished, but it was secluded enough, hidden enough, that they felt safe here. It was the place they used the most, especially since it was getting colder and colder and the walls, even incomplete as they were, offered some protection from the wind, rain and snow.

He heard footsteps echoing on the stairwell behind him and turned in time to see Gallagher walk through the door.

“Finally!”

“Sorry! Had to wait for an opportunity to sneak out.” Ian approached him in a few quick long steps and looped his arm around Mickey’s waist, bringing him close for a kiss. Mickey turned his face, so Ian snorted and just kissed his cheek instead. Mickey pushed him away. Ian knew well enough that Mickey didn’t want to be kissed, yet sometimes he’d insist on trying, always failing, and it got on Mickey’s nerves.

“Why you gotta do that shit, man?”

Ian just grinned at him, all puppy-eyed and sweet, and shrugged. “You’re going to do it, one day. You’ll let me kiss you. And you’ll kiss me back.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Gallagher!”

Ian grinned even wider. “In my dreams we’ve already kissed a billion times.”

Mickey scoffed, but didn’t shove him or punch him, like he would have in the past. Maybe that was the problem. He’d gone too soft.

“Quit it, man.” Then, before Ian had time to retort, he added, pointing at the duffle bag Ian was carrying. “Whatchu got there?”

Ian put the bag down and opened the zipper. He started handing Mickey the items.

“A 6-pack…”

“Nice.”

“Pringles…Chocolate…”

“Not bad, Gallagher.”

“And a blanket.”

He showed Mickey and old, gray blanket, fraying on the sides.

“A blanket? What, you want to spread it out and look for shooting stars next?”

Ian snorted. “Wouldn’t mind that…” he teased, before shaking his head. “Nah, it’s cold, man. It’ll be better to sit on it than straight on the concrete.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Ian opened the blanket and they sat down on it, cross legged, the food between them.

“Hey, what’s your contribution for this feast?”

Mickey reached into his pocket and tossed a bag onto the blanket, filled with a bunch of already rolled up joints. Then he reached into his other pocket and added to the pile a bottle of lube and a string of condoms.

“Merry Christmas, Gallagher.”

Ian grinned widely. It was definitely the best Christmas he’d ever had.


	10. Stockings

It’s their fourth Christmas after moving in together, and every year for the first three Ian had complained they didn’t have decorative stockings to hang, and every year he said he’d buy some the following year, and again every year he forgot to. So this year Mickey’s taking matters into his own hands. Sort of. No way he’s going to be caught dead buying Christmas stuff on an actual store; he doesn’t like shopping all year round, but his aversion to it definitely gets worse during the holidays. So he goes online, and wastes far too much time choosing the right stockings. He chooses two funny ones, because if he must do it, he might as well have fun with it. But then he feels guilty and finds two more suitable ones, which are more likely to please Ian.

Of course, once they arrive, it’s the funny ones he hangs (under the window, because they don’t have a fireplace).

“Mickey, I’m home!” Ian shouts out as soon as he arrives, as if they didn’t live in a small one-bedroom apartment and Mickey wasn’t able to hear the door open and close loud and clear.

“Mickey, what the hell?” is what he shouts next, and Mickey grins as he stands up and goes into the living room, trying his best to appear nonchalant.

“Oh, hey. How was work?”

“How was… Mickey! What are those?” Ian points at the stockings.

“Oh, yeah. You always complain we have to but Christmas stockings, but then never do, so I did. You’re welcome.”

“Mickey!”

Ian stops in front of the window, carefully analyzing the items. He picks the first one, a simple red one with white fur that says, in capital letters, ‘oh, deer, I’m queer’.

“That’s mine.”

Ian raises his eyebrows at him, but doesn’t comment, instead picking the other one, almost identical, but which instead says ‘well hung’.

“And that’s yours. I mean, I guess we could switch if you want to, but I was trying to be truthful. You know, Santa doesn’t like lies.”

Ian scoffs and shakes his head.

“Mickey, these are highly inappropriate. We can’t hang them here!”

Mickey smiles. “I know, I…”

“Let’s put them in our bedroom.”

“Wait, what?”

But Ian is already walking into the bedroom, looking around for a place to hang the stockings. He ends up hanging them on the handles of the dresser drawers.

“There, perfect.”

“Wait, you liked them?”

“Of course I did. They’re hilarious!” He kisses the tip of Mickey’s nose. “I just don’t think we should leave them in the living room, where our family and friends can see them. I mean, yours is ok, but mine… well, I don’t like to advertise.”

“Oh, I…” Mickey blushes. “I actually got them as a joke. Here” he opens the first drawer and picks a set of very cute, very appropriate, Christmas stockings “these are the real ones.”

“Oh, great! We can have a set here and a set in the living room then!”

“Does that mean double the presents?”

Ian smiles and puts his hands on Mickey’s hips, bringing him closer. “That depends. Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

Mickey trails his hands down Ian’s chest. “Oh, I’m about to be very, very naughty.”

They kiss hungrily and fall onto the bed, stockings forgotten for the next several minutes.


	11. Mistletoe

“Stop right there!” Ian shouts, startling Mickey, who does as he’s told and freezes.

“What, what’s going on?” He looks around him, then down his clothes. “Is there a bug on me or something?”

Ian stops right in front of him and points to the doorframe just above them. “Mistletoe.”

“What?” Mickey looks up and, sure enough, there’s mistletoe. “When did you put those there?”

“While you were in the shower” Ian says, already leaning over and giving Mickey a sweet, soft kiss, lasting just long enough to leave them wanting more.

“Is this going to happen every time I stop under this door?”

“Every. Single. Time.” Ian answers, kissing him again for good measure, the kiss now a bit longer, a bit deeper, a bit hotter.

Mickey sighs when they part and takes two steps back, then two steps forward again, stopping right where he was before and pointing upwards with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.  

Ian laughs and pulls him into another kiss, their bodies pressed together, Ian’s hands on Mickey’s hair and Mickey’s hands roaming all over Ian’s body.

Ian  _loved_ mistletoe. 


	12. Antlers

“Hey, what do you think?” Mickey looks up to see Ian wearing reindeer antlers, complete with ears and mistletoe. He seems to have gotten it from a huge basket filled with Christmas accessories. Mickey sighs. It’s still early November, why is everything so red and green already? And of course, leave it to Christmas-enthusiast boyfriend to be one of the firsts to get everything decorated for the holidays.

“Take that thing off” he answers, in a tone that clearly conveys he’s not amused at all.

“What, you don’t like it?”

Mickey just glares at Ian.

Ian grins and gets closer to him.

“Ever ridden a reindeer?”

“No, and if you don’t take that thing off right now I won’t be riding  _anything_  ever again.”

Ian puts the antlers back on the basket faster than lightning. He’s pretty sure it’s an empty threat, but he’s not risking it.


	13. Eggnog

  


“What are you making?” Mickey asks Ian from the kitchen doorway as he watches his boyfriend whisking something in a bowl.

“Eggnog.”

“Eggnog? Ian, it’s September. Why are you making eggnog in September?”

Ian laughs. “Can’t I just want some? Does it have to be Christmas for me to have some eggnog?”

Mickey rolls his eyes. “It’s got to at least be cold. It’s a hundred degrees outside, make something refreshing.”

Ian snorts and shakes his head, still whisking. “It’s not that hot, Mick. And anyway, this isn’t for us to drink now, it  _is_  for Christmastime. I’m just making it now so it can age for a while.”

“Age? Like wine?”

“Not exactly, but kind of, yeah. It gets delicious.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“My mom’s recipe.”

“Of course it is. So… there’s booze in this right?”

Ian raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think I’d make us non-alcoholic eggnog? Of course there is. Tons of. It actually helps preserve it and it’s what makes it delicious.”

“Consider you’re making this months in advance, it better taste fantastic!”

At Christmastime, when Ian pours each of them a cup of his eggnog and they sit under the blankets to drink it and watch a movie, Mickey agrees that it was, indeed, fantastic.

 

~~~~~~~~~

I got that idea from[ this site](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.thekitchn.com%2Fhow-to-make-homemade-eggnog-cooking-lessons-from-the-kitchn-214298&t=YmNkNzM4NTlkMWNjMzk3YTRjMGQwYTg2MmM0NWExMmJmNzQ3M2I1Nyw4NG5WcUhhdA%3D%3D&b=t%3A2MV7U2h3m9gB-XLSe7CTQw&p=http%3A%2F%2Fthehonorarybeaumont.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F181367823092%2Feggnog&m=0), if anyone wants a recipe.


	14. Candles

Mickey worries about Ian sometimes. He just can’t help it. He loves him so much, and his health and happiness are Mickey’s priorities at all times. He remembers all too well what it felt like to deal with Ian when he was depressed, and also when he was manic. Not only was it incredibly hard to watch him like that, it also made Mickey’s heart ache to see Ian suffer. He knows Ian doesn’t like it when he fusses over him, so he tries his best to keep his worries to himself most of the time and trust his husband to take care of his own health.

Sometimes, however, he can’t help but see a red alert blinking right in front of his eyes. Like when he arrives home to see Ian sitting by the kitchen table surrounded by a bunch of stuff Mickey doesn’t even recognize. There are items everywhere, including on the chairs and on the floor, and everything seems messy and thrown around.

Ian is focused on whatever crafty activity this is and doesn’t even look up when he enters.

“Ian?”

“Hey, babe!” Ian replies, still not looking at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Making Christmas candles.”

“Erm…”

Ian smiles, though he still doesn’t look up. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine.”

“I didn’t say anything” Mickey answers, attempting to defend himself.

“You don’t have to” Ian replies, in a tone that denotes amusement and not anger, which makes Mickey relax. “I know you, and I know that you worry about me everytime I come up with some new project idea.”

He looks up, finally, apparently having finished whatever it was that required his attention. “I’m ok, Mick. I’m focused, and I promise I’ll finish this project and clean up everything. I just wanted to create something, it’s all. It actually helps me center myself and plan ahead. It’s a good thing.”

Mickey exhales, relieved. “I’m sorry. I know you can take care of yourself. I just…”

Ian smiles and stands up. “You worry because you love me?”

Mickey nods and Ian pulls him close, kissing him sweetly.

It’s only weeks later, when Mickey is admiring the soft glow of Ian’s pale skin while they make love under candlelight, that he is able to fully appreciate his husband’s new hobby.


	15. Wreath

“Hey there. Something smells great.” Mickey walks over to the kitchen with a smile.

“I’m making lasagna” Ian explains, stopping stirring the sauce for a brief second to give Mickey a greeting kiss.

“I brought you a present.”

Ian looks Mickey up and down. “Where is it?”

“Outside.”

Ian frowns. What could it possibly be that Mickey had to leave it outside?

“Here, keep stirring.” He hands Mickey the wooden spoon and walks to the front door. He pulls it open, curious, frowning even more intensely when he doesn’t see anything outside. He looks down the corridor both ways.

“There’s nothing here!” he shouts back at his husband.

“On the door!” Mickey replies from the kitchen.

Ian turns and looks at the door, grinning widely when he sees their new Christmas wreath.

“I love it!” he shouts again, before closing the door.

“I love it!” he repeats, this time in front of Mickey. “It’s perfect!”

“I knew you’d like it” Mickey says, smug. “You love Christmas and you’re a big nerd, so I figured a Batman wreath was perfect for you.

Ian takes the wooden spoon from his husband and resumes his cooking, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You know me so well.”

  


 


	16. Gingerbread

“Are they ready yet?” Mickey asked for what Ian could swear was the tenth time. This time, however, his answer was finally different.

“Yes!” He took the gingerbread men out of the oven, setting the hot baking tray on the sink. “They look pretty good. We did a good job!”

“Now, that’s a miracle.” Mickey inspected the cookies. “Hope they taste good too. It’s what matters most.”

“True, but I don’t want to give away ugly cookies.”

Ian picked a spatula and started extracting the cookies from the tray, placing them carefully on a plate. It worked well with the first two, but the third stuck to the tray and the arms ended up breaking.

“Oh, shit!” Ian put the broken one with the other ones, and Mickey took the opportunity to grab the arms that had broken and eat them.

“Ooh, hot, hot, hot!”

“Of course they’re hot, you idiot, I just took them out of the oven, what did you expect?”

Ian was able to take out another one intact, but the fifth one also lost the arms, so he gave up. “I’ll wait for them to cool down, maybe they won’t break so much then.”

“Oh, hey, look. It’s a dick.”

“What?!” Ian snapped his head up to look at Mickey, confused. Mickey had a broken cookie in his hand, and like this, without the arms and also without the decorations, it sure did look like a dick.

Ian burst out laughing. “Oh, I know exactly how I’ll be decorating that one.”

“I’ll save it for Mandy.”

  


 


	17. Bows

  


Mickey doesn’t have an ounce of patience in his body and that’s no secret. He’s not crafty and if something can’t be fixed in less than five minutes, he’d rather leave it broken. Lucky for him, he’s got a husband who does enjoy taking his time to fix or create things. Sometimes, when Mickey’s feeling generous, he does help Ian, though normally not for a long time. It usually gets to a point where he’s got to stop and do something else or he’ll end up breaking things for good.

There’s one thing, however, that Mickey does enjoy: bows. He doesn’t know what it is about them; maybe it’s because even the ones that take longer don’t take that much time, maybe it’s the satisfaction of knowing that his hands can, indeed, create something beautiful and delicate, maybe it’s because they aren’t meant to last anyway. Whatever it is, the truth is Mickey’s become a bow expert over the years. He’s spent a lot of time watching video tutorials on how to make many different kinds of bows and practicing them. Whenever they have to give someone a present, Ian wraps it, but then gives it to Mickey to put a beautiful bow around it.

Ian watches with rapt attention as Mickey carefully ties up a giant bow for them to put on their Christmas tree. Mickey’s lips are pursed tightly and there’s a frown line on his forehead as he focus intently on his task. His fingers work deftly, twisting and twining the large ribbon to create beautiful arches.

He stops suddenly, looking up and meeting Ian’s eyes.

“What are you staring at?”

Ian shrugs. “I like watching you make bows. They look so pretty. You have very agile fingers.”

Mickey raises and eyebrow. “You would know.”

“Can you tight knots that well too?”

Mickey smirks as he finishes the bow with a final tuck.

“Take your clothes off and I’ll show you.”

  * 



	18. Fireplace

If there was one thing Ian missed now living in a small apartment was having a fireplace. He always thought there was something intrinsically homely and nostalgic about fireplaces. They brought him memories of being with loved ones, cozy, happy, warm inside and out. Now that he and Mickey had their place, Mickey was the one making him happy, but he still wished they had a fireplace so that they could sit in front of the fire with cups of hot cocoa, comfortably silent.

He thinks about getting one of those electric ones, but money is tight and they have other priorities. A dozen other priorities.

So time passes, things change, they move to a slightly bigger place, but still no fireplace. He doesn’t mind that much now, doesn’t really think about it except when Christmas comes and they have nowhere to hang their stockings.

Till one day, when he and Mickey are playing a video game, enjoying some free time on a Saturday, and the intercom rings. They look at each other, startled, and Mickey pauses the game.

“We expecting someone?”

“Nope.” Ian gets up and answers the intercom, buzzing whoever it is in.

“Delivery for me. Did you order anything?”

Mickey shakes his dead. “Not me. Must be from a secret admirer.”

Ian raises an eyebrow and Mickey chuckles. “Really man, not me.”

Ian frowns, but opens the door when he hears movement in the hallway.

“Ian Gallagher?”

“Milkovich!” Mickey shouts from the living room, much to Ian’s amusement.

“That’s me.”

“Sign here, please.”

Ian signs on the delivery man’s tablet and the guy pushes a big wrapped box his way.

“Here you go. Happy holidays!”

“Erm… thanks, you too.”

Ian pulls the package inside and closes the door, frowning. There’s a card attached to the box, so he picks it and reads it out loud.

“Dear Ian, I know you’ve always wanted one of these, hope it’s not too late. Love, Lip. Merry Christmas.”

“Your secret admirer is your brother? Ugh, gross!”

Ian laughs. “Shut up and help me unwrap this.”

With Mickey’s help, they have teared all the paper within seconds. Ian smiles brightly, eyes shining, when he sees what his brother’s given him.

“An electric fireplace! That’s… very thoughtful. I can’t believe Lip’s got a present right for once.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle.”

“Can you set it up? I’ll call Lip to thank him and make us some hot cocoa to celebrate in style.”

“With marshmallows?”

“A bunch?”

“And rum?”

“Always.”


	19. Nutcracker

“Oh, hey, a package from Mandy!” Ian exclaims when he gets the mail.

“What is it?” Mickey, who is washing dishes, yells from the kitchen.

“No clue, let’s see.” Ian takes some scissors and opens the small package, revealing an envelope with Mickey’s name on the front and something small, wrapped in so much bubble wrap he can hardly distinguish the color red.

“There’s a letter to you.”

“Read it for me, I’m busy.”

“ _Dear Assface_ …”

“Fucking Mandy!”

“Shall I go on?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“ _Dear Assface, I was cleaning the basement in our former house (don’t even get me started on the amount of crap I found! It was disgusting!!!) and found and old music box. It belonged to mum, but I remember you used to like it. Or am I wrong? I hope not. It’s the one with the Nutcracker ballet, remember? I hope you do. Anyway, it’s pretty much intact and it still works, so I’m sending it to you. You can consider it an early Christmas present. See ya, asshole!_ ”

While Ian was finishing reading the letter, Mickey had stopped washing the dishes and walked into the living room, drying his hands on his pants. He carefully picks the music box from the box it came on and unwraps the several layers of bubble wrap. Ian watches as his eyes go misty once he sees the music box.

“Did you really like it?”

Mickey nods, silent, focused on the music box. “Yes. My mom used to turn it on for us all the time and sometimes I’d do it myself. My dad caught me listening to it once, got furious, said music boxes were for faggots. Heh. I guess he was right.”

“Mickey…”

“Thought he was going to break it. I think he would have if my mom hadn’t arrived. She said she was the one listening, and sent me away. I never saw it after that. I thought he’d broken it or thrown it away, but I guess she hid it.”

“Maybe she wanted to give it to you someday.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He turns it on, and a soft music starts playing as the scenes change, the curtains opening and closing to reveal the ballet dancers. It’s all very delicate and beautiful and it’s easy for Ian to see why little Mickey used to like it. It’s magical.

“Thanks, Mandy. And thanks, mom.”


	20. Paper hats

  


Mickey eats in silence, observing the scene around him. It feels comfortable, peaceful, joyful. He’s filled with a sense of gratitude he hasn’t felt in quite a while. It’s one of those moments he’ll bring up when someone asks him what makes him happy. This, his family, all talking and laughing, makes him happy.

They’re in Ireland, Ian and him, visiting Yevgeny. Svetlana’s married to an Irish woman, a beautiful doctor in her early forties called Deirdre who absolutely adores her. Deirdre already had a daughter of her own as well, just a couple of years older than Yev, and the couple has recently adopted a four-year-old boy. Since Yev came back to their lives, he’s visited them a few times, and they talk on the phone often, but it’s their first time visiting him in Ireland. So far, Mickey’s not very impressed. It’s a nice place and all, but he still prefers America. Not to mention the people are way too friendly, he finds it weird. Still, sitting here with his odd family, he’s suddenly overcome with happiness. He would freeze this moment if he could, but since he can’t, he tries his best to commit every detail to memory.

They finish eating and Deirdre takes the dishes away, refusing Ian’s help and making her daughter help her instead. She comes back with a bag and promptly starts giving each person a shiny cylinder. The kids all get excited immediately, much to Mickey’s bewilderment.

“Oh, fun, crackers!” Ian exclaims beside him, which just serves to make him even more confused. Crackers? They just ate a full dinner!

Ian takes one, smiling, so Mickey copies him, trying to be polite. Ian shows him his, putting it between them, and raises his eyebrows. “Pull it.”

“What?”

“They are Christmas crackers. It’s a tradition here. We have to rip them open.”

Still frowning, Mickey does as he’s told and soon the thing rips with a loud pop, spilling its contents on the ground. Ian picks up a piece of green paper and unfolds it, revealing something resembling a crown, which he cheerfully puts on his head. Next he picks the other object, a tiny bottle of perfume.

“Nice! Thanks!”

Around them, loud pops are heard as well as screams of joy when the rest of the family tears apart their crackers. Mickey offers Ian his and they pop it open as well. Inside there’s a paper hat just like Ian’s, but red instead. Mickey thinks it’s ridiculous, but he puts it on nevertheless. Tradition is tradition, right? His present is also a small bottle, but instead of perfume it contains Irish whisky.

“Ha! I win!”

Once they’ve all got their presents, Deirdre brings out another Christmas cracker, this one much larger than the others, much to the kids amusement. They all shout and run to it, trying to pop it open. It’s so big it takes them some time to crack it open, but once they do a bunch of small games fall from it. The kids are delighted, and immediately start opening the games and choosing what to play with, demanding that the adults play with them.

As they are all distracted playing and eating dessert, Mickey watches them once more, a smile quickly forming on his lips. This, right here, is all he’s ever wanted for Christmas.

 


	21. Ribbon

Mickey watches as Ian helps Lateesha spell festive words on a large red ribbon. It’s been four months since they adopted her and she’s adapted splendidly. Sure, it’s not all roses, since raising a child never is, but she’s flourishing before their eyes and it’s beautiful to see.

Since arriving she’s shown interest in the books Mickey reads her before bedtime and asked him several times what was written here or there, so Ian has been teaching her the alphabet and a few basic words, like their names. She’s still a bit too young, but she’s curious and independent, so she’s been learning fast.

Now Ian’s sitting with her on the living room floor, a notebook and a pen on his hand and a marker on hers as he slowly shows her how to spell words like “merry Christmas” “Rudolph” and “I love Santa Claus” on a ribbon they’ll put around their Christmas tree. It’ll be their first Christmas together, and Mickey can’t wait to see her face when she gets her presents. He’ll miss spending it with Yevgeny, who’ll be staying in Ireland this year, but they’ll Skype and he’ll be coming around on the summer to visit them.

“Dad!” Mickey is startled out of his reverie by Lateesha’s shout. “Help me. What can I write?”

Mickey cocks his head, thoughtful, and walks over to them, sitting next to Lateesha. “Hm… How about… ‘love’?”

She grins at him. “How do you spell it, dad?”

“L-A-T-E-E-S-H-A.”


	22. Family

Mickey has never liked being in a crowd. Ever since he was young, he’d look for a place where he could be by himself. He felt safer, calmer. Large groups of people made him anxious, their loud voices giving him headaches and making him exhausted quickly.

For once, though, he’s enjoying being surrounded by people. It’s still chaotic and he flinches when someone speaks louder than necessary, and he knows for sure he’ll be completely beat by the time the night is over, but it’s worth it. They’re having Christmas dinner at Svetlana and Deirdre’s place again, and this time there’s even more people. It’s he, Ian and their daughter Lateesha, Yevgeny, Svetlana and Deirdre and their two other kids, Mandy, who’s accompanied them to Ireland this time, along with her husband and toddler, and Deirdre’s whole family, which consists of another eight adults and seven children (Mickey’s counted them three times to be sure, since they all look alike to him).

Lateesha’s standing near the other kids, watching them, her big brown eyes taking everything around her. She looks around, her eyes stopping for a moment at Ian, who’s talking with two guys Mickey thinks are Deirdre’s brother and brother-in-law, then roaming around until she finds Mickey sitting by himself on an armchair. She runs over and raises his arms to be picked, which he gladly does.

“Tired, munchkin?”

She nods, hiding her face on his neck and sighing. Mickey holds her closer and kisses her hair.

She is fast asleep within minutes and Mickey observes again the other people, chatting, playing, laughing. Sure, it’s loud and chaotic and downright overwhelming, but it’s  _family_. The word has never meant so much before. 


	23. Snowman

“Dad, look what I made today!” Lateesha exclaims excitedly as soon as she sees Ian. She hugs him briefly, allowing him to give her a kiss on the cheek before she pulls back to proudly show him her creations.

Ian stands up and takes the crafts from her. They’re three small snowmen, made with paper cupcake liners glued to a craft stick. He smiles when he sees she’s given one of them orange hair.

“Is this me?”

She nods, grinning. “He has green eyes, see? And he’s bigger than the others because you’re the biggest of our family.”

She points to another one, a bit smaller. “And this one is dad Mickey, with blue eyes. He’s shorter than you, see?” She puts the snowmen side by side for comparison.

“And this one is me. See?” She points to the third snowman, smaller than the other two, with curly black hair and a pink scarf. “I’m the little-est.”

Ian ruffles her hair. “And the cutest.”

She smiles, showing him a gap where her milk teeth had started to fall. “I know.”


	24. Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: AU where Ian and Mickey meet during Christmas time. Also, I’ve never set foot in a Hot Topic in my life, so excuse any mistakes.

Mickey wants to kick his own ass. He’s forgotten to get Mandy a Christmas present and now he has to do some last-minute shopping. Well, forgotten is the wrong word. More like procrastinated until it wasn’t possible anymore and then he still procrastinated some more. Damn! Would he ever learn?

And of course he can’t just not get her anything, or she’ll chop off his nuts. So he arms himself with all the patience he can muster, which admittedly isn’t much, and goes to the mall. He walks among the crowd, counting to ten several times, looking around in hopes of spotting a store that looks promising. He sees a Hot Topic and bolts for it. If he can’t find something for Mandy there, he doesn’t know where he will.

The store is crowded, which turns out to be a blessing, since no one bothers him and he’s able to look at the racks in peace.

“May I help you, sir?”

Mickey sighs. So much for peace. He turns around, ready to say he’s just browsing, and is stunned into silence by the most handsome guy he’s ever seen. He’s tall, with pale skin and bright orange hair that normally Mickey would make fun off but that he suddenly finds very attractive. He’s got deep green eyes and a chiseled jaw and a quick glance down his chest shows Mickey he’s fit, yet strong. He looks like a guy you see on TV, but not like anyone Mickey’s ever seen up close and personal.

“Erm… “ He swallows, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. “I…”

“Are you looking for a present or is it for yourself?”

“Hm… present.”

“Ok. Could you tell me a bit more about who it is for?”

“Hm… sure. Girl, seventeen. Wears a lot of black and too much make-up around her eyes.”

The guy - Ian, his name tag says - smiles and Mickey decides in a split-second that he needs to see more of that smile. He must.

“Girlfriend?”

Mickey frowns, taken by surprise by the question. Is the hot salesman asking him if he has a… oh! Mandy. He’s asking if Mandy is his girlfriend. He scrunches up his nose.

“Hell, no. Sister. I ain’t got no girlfriend.”

He’s sure he’s imagining the glint in Ian’s eyes when he hears those words, but there’s no denying what he says next. “Well, that’s a pity.”

Mickey arches his eyebrows. Is the salesman flirting with him?

“I mean…” Ian continues, cheeks flush. “Alone at Christmas. That sucks.”

“Who says I’m alone?”

Ian gaps at him like a fish out of water.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I guess I assumed.” He smiles timidly. “Boyfriend, then?”

It’s Mickey’s turn to blush. “You think I’m fucking gay?”

Ian shrugs. “Guess I was just hoping” he answers, voice low enough that Mickey can pretend he hasn’t heard it, which he does, because how on Earth do you deal with a hot as fuck salesman flirting with you in the middle of a crowded Hot Topic the day before Christmas?

“Here, how about this?” Ian shows him a black strapless top with a zipper on the front. “It’s black, modern and cute. Oh, and she could pair it with a skirt! Come here!”

He leads Mickey to another section of the store and shows him a short skirt with a galaxy print. Mickey shakes his head.

“Nah, I don’t see it.”

Ian takes a quick look at the other skirts, then pulls out a plaid one, pairing it with the black top to show Mickey the full outfit. “How about this one?”

“Yeah, ok. I’ll take them. Now, please. I’ll punch someone if I have to stay another minute on this place.”

Ian grimaces. “I know the feeling.”

“How do you do it?”

Ian shrugs. “It pays the bills.”

After Mickey’s done paying (a lot of money, by the way, Mandy’d better be fucking grateful) Ian takes him to the front of the store.

“I hope your sister likes the presents. And please come back another time. I promise we’re not always this crowded.”

Mickey shakes his head. “I’m never setting foot on this store again. But…” He eyes Ian down and rubs his thumb on his lower lip. “You wanna meet somewhere else, maybe?”

Ian grins and takes a pen from his pocket. He takes Mickey’s arm and pushes back the sleeves a bit to write his phone number on his wrist.

“Call me” he says with a confident smirk and a wink before turning around and going back into the store.

Well, merry Christmas indeed.


	25. Parties

“Absolutely not” says Ian, upon seeing Mickey wearing his stoner gingerbread man sweater.

“Why not? It’s an ugly Christmas sweater party. This is an ugly Christmas sweater!”

“It’s an office ugly Christmas sweater party. I can’t have my husband wearing a sweater that says ‘let’s get baked’.”

Mickey shrugs. “Remind me again why I must go to this party?” he asks, flopping down on the bed looking dejected.

Ian approaches him and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Because you’re my husband and you love me very much?”

Mickey merely raises an eyebrow in response.

“Because I’ll eat your ass till my tongue goes numb?”

Mickey grins. “Ok, deal. But I’m only staying for an hour.”

“There’s free booze.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, I guess I could stand a couple of hours.”

Ian finishes styling his hair and hands Mickey a sweater from the dresser. “Here. I got this for you.”

“Is it as cool as yours?” he asks, pointing at Ian’s sweater with Santa dabbing.

“Cooler.”

Mickey opens and smiles upon seeing the famous Home Alone quote ‘Merry Christmas you filthy animal’ printed on the front.

“Ok, you win. I’m definitely wearing this.”

The party is already in full swing when they arrive, people eating and chatting and drinking from a punch that’s most definitely spiked. Mickey helps himself to both food and drinks, but Ian refuses for the time being.

“You know just a little bit gets me drunk nowadays, and I’d rather not get hammered in front of my boss and coworkers.”

“Suit yourself, more for me.”

Ian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he takes Mickey’s hand and drags him around, introducing him to everyone.

“Oh, so you’re the famous Mickey!” Mickey hears, much to his astonishment. They know who he is?

“Ian talks about you all the time!”

“Ian’s always talking about his amazing husband!”

“It’s great to finally meet you!”

“You really are good-looking!”

Mickey only smiles, timid and somewhat taken aback. Everyone is so nice and warm to him, he doesn’t really know how to respond. And Ian has talked about him? Many times? Good things? He hears what they’re saying, and in his mind he knows it to be true, but his heart still has a hard time believing it.

Once he’s been introduced to everyone, he pulls Ian aside so they can stand in front of a window. He feels less claustrophobic this way, looking at the night sky, ignoring the fact that there’s a bunch of people speaking loudly right behind him.

“Did you really tell them good things about me or were they just being nice?” he asks, taking Ian’s hand.

Ian smiles that bright smile of his that makes Mickey all warm inside and kisses him on the forehead.

“Of course I did. You’re brilliant. You’re hot and smart and funny and a great husband. Why would I not?”

Mickey closes the space between them with a soft kiss to Ian’s lips.

“I love you.”

“I know that. And I love you too. And when we get home I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”

Mickey grins. Maybe this office party thing isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
